For what says Quinapalus? “Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.”—God bless thee, lady!

The Clown in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night (I.v.16)

Horoscopes for 3-28-2023

3/30/23 Venus conjunct Uranus 16°44’ Taurus

Aries

I always like little squares, like graph paper, you know? Little squares that show just exactly where my letters and numbers should be placed, and then? I tend to eschew the guides and just plop stuff down wherever I want, irrespective of the little squares. I finally got to the point where I couldn’t use graph paper like that, just for that reason. I like the guides and then, I don’t use them. Or, I should suggest, I don’t use them as intended. What this means for Aries? It’s about using the guides, the lines on the paper, the dotted lines, the hard lines, the directions, use them in a manner that is more consistent with the fiery Aries temperament rather than as hard and fast rules — “Looks good, let’s try it!” Now realize, like me, it might not work out, but but if you don’t give it a spin? We’ll never know, right? “That didn’t work, but I have another idea, like this, only different…” As I’ve suggested, you might meet with the same degree of success that I get, but at least you’ve tried. Might also be surprised with good results, following the guides.

Taurus

The planet that is most associated with Taurus? Venus. The planet that likes to twist everything, and I mean everything sideways? Uranus. Bounce those two energies against each other as they make a marvelous alignment this year? It’s way big fun, played correctly. Weird, different, odd, and unusual. Off-beat. What it means for Taurus?

More than anything else, there’s an emotional issue that can get resolved, albeit, not a in a “normal” fashion. I wouldn’t know what normal was, if it showed up on the front doorstep, rang the bell, and announced itself. Nope, and what’s more amusing? By familial standards, I’m the most normal one in my genetic familial lineage. Doesn’t say a lot for me, but for gentle Taurus? This is about realizing that something “not normal” solves the recurring problem. Strange, off-beat, and just plain weird? That’s what works. I look forward to hearing about — after this is over.

Gemini

Love my Gemini friends, but there’s an air of expectancy present, I can’t get on board with that. Look: yes, it’s better. Yes, you see clearly now. Yes, it’s got to get better. Yes, yes, yes. Can’t be too much of a “Yes man” for Gemini, now can I? But I’m looking, watching, there was a revelation in Gemini a few days, weeks back, and you haven’t totally embraced that truth just yet. The whole truth, not just the parts that fit. I’m rather selective about what “truth” I allow in my world, but I’ve gotten lucky, and I’ve worked hard to get to a place where that’s all I have to accept. Then again, I recall being trained to look at both sides of a situation, and the trick to mount an effective defense is to approach the issue from the other side. Take the position of the opposing forces. Helps to see your own weakness, not that I think any Gemini has a weakness, but it does help to see the most likely way the opposing forces will mount a defense or an offense, just to try and pick you apart. Look at it from the opposition’s point of view. Previously annotated revelation helps with that, seeing the whole thing much more clearly.

Cancer

There was the “15-minutes” of fame thing has become more like a squirrel on coffee, and just “5 minutes of fame,” which, in turn is now more like 30 seconds of heightened notice as a tidbit gets the viral treatment, and then is heard no more. This is the problem with the problem, what to do with the momentary flash of Cancer Moon Children’s brief flirtation with a larger audience, and then? Heard no more? Periodically, I see a spike in book sales or paid readings, and for me, it is easy to track this to astrological conditions. Likewise, there’s a surge in Cancer attention wherein the gentle Moon Children experience a brief, glancing moment of the distracted global audience, but don’t bet on it lasting. It’s a minor moment. Enjoy it, but realize the attention span of the public is less than expected.

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The Leo

I’ve seen this one several ways. Think the one I like best? “Your ex-girlfriend texts you and asks for $100. Your fishing buddy texts and asks for $100. Your kids each text and ask for $100. How much money do you have?” Whatever the amount adds up to? That’s what you have because, for The Leo, saying “no” is a perfectly acceptable answer. Maybe it isn’t friends and family with open hands, maybe it’s a one-time-offer that can’t be beat! “No,” is still an acceptable Leo answer. If you’re willing to wait, whatever the deal is? It either removes itself with no input from majestic Leo, or the price goes down. Either way is a definite win for The Leo, and one we will take. All starts with demurring, perhaps gently, “Not at this time.” Translated, simply put? “No.” Unless, you know you want to pay me. “Ah, Kramer, not at this time?”

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Virgo

I used to know how to talk to gatekeepers. I was good at it, for a spell. Can’t recall the last time I needed that skill-set, “Talking to gatekeepers,” but I wasn’t as smooth and practiced as I was at one time. We all encounter gatekeepers, but this week’s Virgo element has a special problem with those gatekeepers. In the original form, it was an administrative assistant, né secretary, controlling access to a professor. “My door is always open,” except that it was guarded by a ferocious person who terminated any hope of an audience. Later, in the real world, I’ve been on all sides, been the manager who filtered access to the boss, been the employer who had an assistant, needed access through an admin, and been blocked by a minor functionary. I used to be able to talk, cajole, humor, flirt, or otherwise gain access to whatever was guarded. I’ve lost that skill. But talking to gatekeepers is what this is all about. Various levels, and when treated like a game, or in my favorite examples, less of game and more of an interest in the gatekeepers themselves? Works wonders. That’s how a good Virgo gets ahead.

Libra

From years and years, miles and miles, and time after time, but from my experience? I keep a bag packed, at the ready, for any kind of a situation. To some, this is a ubiquitous “go bag,” and for others, it’s EDC, “Every Day Carry.” Buddy of mine had a quick trip to the emergency room, and I grabbed my little bag. Has a tablet, a charger, and cables to charge stuff. I spent a few hours waiting on his morphine to kick in, and then he nodded off. My duty was done. All I did was some light correspondence, check on a website, update my own schedule, and reschedule with a client. I was ready when duty called. It’s about having the items that you might need in perceived Libra-adjacent situation, it’s about being prepared, having that material packed up. To some, and there is much amusement among my male friends, but this is a purse. “No, man, it’s an EDC pack.” Looking inside? Hand lotion, chapstick, looks like a purse to me. Either way, are you packed up and ready for the next few days?

Scorpio

“Simply Assembly! No tools required!” That was the advertising own the side of the package. I believed it, but then I’ve been a consumer for a long time, and I know that the advertising might be a slightly hyperbolic. While the assembly, it’s in the backyard now, while that assembly did only take a few minutes, the steps were carefully laid out in a specific order, and I missed it on the first try. I looked at the exploded diagram the pieces all fitting together, and I guessed, rightfully so, that English wasn’t the first language for this manufacturer’s technical writing department. I had to wonder how much got mangled in the Google Translate, which, from what I could tell, was probably the source for much of the text. Having faced off, undaunted, and always successful, against a challenge like this, “No tools required?” Having done this a time or two before, let me pass on my suggestion for this week’s Scorpio. Maybe read the instructions all the way through? Maybe take whatever “5-minute” assembly time and double that? Maybe allow for mistakes that happen when you don’t follow the instructions and have allowances in place. It is simple, and maybe that’s the problem, too simple for Scorpio?

Sagittarius

I’m at my core, a lazy Sagittarius. My own proclivities are well-known. Not hidden. As Mars to starts to arc through the gentle Moon Children’s sign, there’s an element of work that presents itself unto our Sagittarius selves. We may try and opt out of carrying that yoke of responsibility for that task, or we can take up the struggles, and trudge forward under that new burden. Little, hot ticket bit of news for my good Sagittarius brethren and sistren — take up that yoke. Looks like, end of March and all? Looks like a long row to hoe, a large field to plow, and perhaps a summer crop to get planted, and while this might seem daunting, exasperating, and too much work for our lazy selves? Give it a spin. Pick up that tool and see where it takes us. Sometimes, this is way simpler than we realize. Not that I know much about this myself, but it’s possible to spend more time avoiding the work when compared with how quick it would be accomplished if we just did the task. Mars. Blame Mars.

Capricorn

What makes it tick? What makes something click into place? I was thinking about this while flipping through one author’s social media feed. First time I tired a book, didn’t work for me. Second time, though, with less pressure, and merely a blurb from another author, I randomly selected a book, got swept up, and carried away. Down the proverbial rabbit hole I go, chasing everything the author has written, eagerly awaiting the next book to drop. What it took for that to snap into place, for me to appreciate that one author’s oeuvre? Took a little patience, as I had to push through the first few pages. Could take up to a third of a, say, 300-page novel, that’s a 100 pages, to get good and hooked. Roped in. Hook line and sinker, to abuse metaphor and cliché. (Aquarius author). There’s a sublime subtly, a gentleness of spirit, and wry observations that depart from the outlandish, and over-the-top I’m used to. What makes it tick, this week’s Capricorn? Patience. Patience and perseverance.

Aquarius

For close to thirty years, I’ve been carrying the same style, same “brand” of tarot cards. It’s imagery I’m comfortable with, and deciphering the meaning makes it easy — for me. I use it as an adjunct, and as a prop, when I’m working. I rarely, if ever, “read” the cards, just a set of symbols that I like as there’s astrological clues contained therein. I used to say, “The same deck,” but the original two decks are worn thin and flimsy, with use. “Everyday I’m shuffling.” Not really, but the iconography on the cards pleases me. So far, I’ve “retired” two decks, safely stored in a closet, the mottled cardboard and cards left for heirs and assigns, I guess. The cards are not magical in and of themselves, and the images, while imbued with a certain mystical quality, yeah, no, not really “magical” by my definition. But the symbolism reigns through. Therein is the notice for Aquarius, letting that symbolism shine through, in some capacity.

Pisces

As the Moon continues to fill out, against that Aries Sun, it causes a minor stir in gentle Pisces. What I kept thinking, that little slice of Virgo gets it before the Moon is full, and that triggers a cascading series of deals in Pisces. Doubt, self-doubt, anxiety, various fears, like public speaking, performance, or other aberrant mental situations pop under this coming Virgo influence. While not all bad, there’s a sense of unknown foreboding. Troublesome for that happy-go-lucky Pisces, and what will eventually happen, in another week? Moon goes to “Full” and then? Everything is better. That Virgo drive for precision in a world that doesn’t seem very factual or precise? That can drive you mad. Just a reminder about something to guard against, next couple of days, at best.